Word on the Street
by Bablin
Summary: an idea I had about urban legends in a part of Gotham City we don't usually read about. this is a first attempt at writing anything since probably elementary school, and its kinda off the top of my head, so don't judge it (or me) too harshly on the grammar or anything else, really. I've read a ton of great stuff here & maybe somebody will dig my dumb story.


Jay sat on the stoop and lit a cigarette, praying his Moms wasn't watching out the window. He'd be in deep shit if she saw him smoking. It was kind of funny when he thought about it, her rules and where she drew the line. It was perfectly fine for him to skip school every day and sit out on the corner selling dope for Pookie, but let her catch him with a menthol in his mouth and all hell would break loose. Whatever, he'd risk the trouble, the old lady was gonna bitch either way and Jay felt it was worth it to have the younger boys in his crew see him smoking. He felt it made him seem tough and more mature and anything that helped keep these little niggas in line and looking up to him helped. At 15, Jay was older, and thus in charge of, all the younger kids who worked as lookouts and hoppers for Pookie. Jay had been made head of the street crew and reported directly to Pookie himself, which both scared him and filled him with pride. He was the man as far as the hoppers were concerned, but he dreaded taking the cash up to Pookie every night. That motherfucker wasn't only mean, he was crazy too...Jay had seen him beat a little kid half to death with a pipe for being too loud. That was Gotham though, violence was just a fact of life, especially down here in the projects. You had to be a mean motherfucker to survive.

Jay heard the other hoppers coming his way and quickly stood up, making sure they saw him take a long drag off the cig and blow out the smoke. "What the fuck?" he demanded as the group approached. "Y'all niggas was supposed to be down here fifteen minutes ago. Them fiends ain't gonna stand around here waiting when they can go a couple blocks down and get the same shit. The fuck is wrong with y'all?"

"Man, Jay, sorry man...I was telling them about this crazy shit I saw last night, man. You ain't gonna believe it." said Q, the second oldest of the crew after Jay.

"Nigga, I know I ain't gonna believe it. You always seeing some crazy shit. Remember last month when you was telling everybody you saw the Purple Man? Or before that when you saw the fuckin' Penguin down at the corner store? Man, you always got stories and ain't none of them true"

"Ok, ok, I didn't see the Penguin. It was just some fat nigga with an umbrella, but I swear I saw the Purple Man! Motherfucker's face was white as a ghost and he was laughing all creepy and..." Q insisted.

"And bullshit, motherfucker." Jay interrupted, " Only little kids believe those stories about the Purple Man and anyway, what kind of white man you ever seen wearing a purple suit?!"

"Naw, man, he wasn't white like that, I mean he was white white. Skin like fuckin chalk, had on makeup and lipstick or something. Looked like a goddamn clown...nigga scared me so bad I can't even go to Mickey D's anymore and I love them chicken nuggets, man."Q explained, " Anyways, the shit I seen last night was even more crazy than that, it was a fuckin vampire!"

Jay burst out laughing, "Nigga you been watching too many goddamn movies. Ain't no goddamn vampires, especially not down in the projects. Them niggas live in castles and shit."

"Man, I saw it, I swear on my mother. I was lookin out my window and see this black shape crawling up the wall of the next building over like a fuckin spider, except with a long black cape hanging down..."

"Nigga, you gonna have to swear on something better than your mama. Sound like you been hittin' that pipe with your crack ho mama to me" Jay interrupted again. This comment caused all the other boys to bust out laughing, with a couple saying "Oooh"...if anyone else had made the remark, Q would have been obligated to fight. Mothers, no matter how fucked up, were sacred. You could diss a guy any other way and it could be considered a joke, but mamas were different. As it was, Jay had made the comment and Q couldn't raise his hand to his boss. He looked down, embarrassed.

Jay saw the look on Q's face and instantly regretted what he'd said. "Damn", he thought to himself, "why'd I have to say that shit? You gotta be a fuckin asshole out here all the time, its bullshit. Can't even fuckin apologize because I'd look like a bitch to these stupid niggas." Instead he said "I'm just fuckin with you, man. Damn, now you got me interested in this shit. C'mon, tell me the rest of the story."

Q recognized that Jay was offering him a way out of his shame, so he picked the story back up. "Yeah,like I was saying, this thing was crawling up the wall. It went all the way up seven stories and stopped at Pookie's window. Then all the lights inside Pook's apartment went out and I heard a yell and a couple of shots pop off, then it was quiet. After a minute or two, this vampire nigga came to the window and jumped out into a bunch of black smoke. When all the smoke cleared, he was gone."

One of the other boys, Cedric, said "Seven stories?! Man, that nigga couldn't survive that shit, no way. Remember what happened to that stupid nigga Dre when he fucked up the count last year? And that was only four stories up." The rest of the group nodded in agreement, but Jay wasn't really listening. He'd gone by Pookie's this morning, like always, to see if Pook wanted anything, and nobody had answered the door. This was extremely unusual...Jay had been ordered to check in twice a day at specific times, and, crazy as he was, Pookie was very serious about his business. He'd never once failed to answer that door. Jay wasn't ready to believe that a vampire was behind it, but something was definitely wrong concerning Pook. Still, Jay had to keep the hoppers in line and working, so he said "If something happened to Pook, it was probably those niggas from the North Side. Either that or he was fuckin with the money and the Italians found out, y'all know they dont play. Don't concern us, we still got the same job to do, so get your asses out on that corner and start serving fiends. Ill go see what's up with Pook."

As the hoppers walked away, Q muttered to himself "All I know is I'm gonna be sleeping with some garlic and a cross tonight, i know that shit. Ain't no Dracula motherfucker gonna get me." Jay sat back down on the stoop and lit another cigarette, this time not worried about his moms seeing him. He waited for his crew to get to their posts and stood up. " Shit!" He thought to himself, " now I gotta go up and check on this nigga...sometimes this shit just aint worth the trouble."

He jogged across the circular courtyard of the projects. It was surrounded on all sides byapartment buildings twenty to thirty stories high, all overflowing with poor folks. Black,white, brown, whatever...didn't matter in Gotham. Over half the city was like this, a maze of projects, tall, multi-story buildings that towered above, and the labyrinth of alleyways that snaked through the canyons below. The other part of the city, to the east, was a different world. Even taller buildings, glass skyscrapers, lined streets that actually had trees. There, the rich enjoyed a life that ninety percent of the city's residents only saw on television. This opulence was all looked down upon by Wayne Tower, the tallest building in the world for decades, until a certain bald headed megalomaniac built one even bigger in Metropolis. Jay, even though he'd lived his entire life only a few miles away, had never been to the East Side. Never had a reason to. He went inside Pookie's building and glanced at the elevator. Fucking thing was broken again, so he headed to the stairwell. As he stepped inside, his nose was assaulted by the smell of piss and something that reminded him of burnt hair. Fucking junkies and crackheads used the stairwells to do their shit and God knows what else, Jay didn't really want to know. He hurried up the steps, eager to get away from this wretched goddamn smell.

Jay opened the door leading out to the seventh floor and stopped to catch his breath. It was dark...all the hall lights were out...and Jay could feel his heart hammering inside his chest, both from the physical exertion of climbing the steps and his dread of what he might find at Pook's place. The goddamn lights being out fit with Q's story and despite himself, Jay began to entertain thoughts of vampires and ghouls. He'd seen some crazy shit before himself, this was Gotham Fucking City, after all. The place was famous nationwide for not only it's abundance of murders and robberies, but also strange disappearances and unexplained events. "The Twilight Zone" Jay's mother had always called the city, though he'd never understood why. Fuck...them "Twilight" movies were about goddamn vampires, maybe that was why. He was gonna damn well ask her, if he made it out of Pookie's apartment alive.

Jay ran down the hallway to Pookie's door and knocked. Nothing, no answer. He knocked again, this time a little harder, but careful not to be too loud or insistent. That kind of knock, called a "Po-Po Knock", was strictly forbidden, one of the unwritten rules of the ghetto. It would piss off even the most chill of the residents here, with a dude like Pookie it could be a killing offense. Still no one came to the door, so Jay called out "Yo Pook, you in there man? I didn't catch you this morning, man, just wanna see what's up..." He was interrupted by a groaning voice from inside. "Help. I need help."

Jay immediately recognized the voice as Pookie and tried the knob. Oddly, it was unlocked...very strange for Pook, who had about six locks on the motherfucker, and Jay pushed the door. It stopped about a quarter of the way open, barred by something. He looked inside and saw Pookie lying in the floor, obviously hurt. "Oh, shit" he exclaimed, and went forward, squeezing through the crack between the door and wall. Pookie was fucked up for real, his face was a bloody mess, with one eye swollen closed. His right leg was bent in an unnatural way below the knee and his left hand...the one he held a pistol in, Jay knew...was fucking mangled. His index finger was obviously broken, probably most of the other bones in the hand were too. Jay could see a bootprint on the back of Pook's hand. Judging from the deep cuts, who or whatever had made them had been wearing spikes on their shoes.

"Jesus, Pook! What the fuck happened, who did this, man?!" Jay asked, almost yelling.

Pookie raised his head a little and moaned in pain, then croaked softly, almost a whisper. " Medicine. Go get the little black bag in the drawer by my bed." Jay ran and did as asked. He watched, unbelieving, as Pookie pulled out a fuckin rig, already filled with tea colored liquid. Pook took out a tube and, fumbling because he was forced to use his right hand, tied off and shot the H. Jay was dumbstruck...fucking Pookie's a junkie! Shit, that was serious, enough to get you killed in the dope game. After a few seconds, Pookie's body relaxed, then he began to talk, slurring his words."Don't know. All my lights went out, so I go grab a flashlight in the kitchen. I was comin' back in here and I thought I'd seen something by the window, so I grab the gat in my waistband and shine the light back that way. Then I saw it, a big black shape standing in the corner. I raised the gun to shoot, but only got off a couple shots, then something hit both hands and I dropped the strap and the light. I know I hit that nigga at least once, he was too close to miss, but he kept coming like it didn't faze him. He hit me in the stomach and elbowed me in the middle of the back when I bent over. I went down and he grabbed my dreads, slammed my face into the floor, then pulled my head up, then said all calm like "tell me, Mr. Holliday, to whom do you pay for the privilege of selling your drugs?" Talked all proper and shit, even used my government name. I told him to eat a dick, I wasnt saying shit, and the motherfucker broke my trigger finger, then my wrist. Then he said "I'm waiting". I didn't say shit, so he stomped on my hand, then kept going, beating me without saying nothing. He started breathing real hard, like he was getting off on it, then stood me up against the fucking counter and stomped me at my knee, then picked me up and did it again, the sorry motherfucker. I knew he was gonna keep going and I couldn't take anymore, so I told him."

"You fuckin TOLD him?!" Jay shouted, shocked. Fucking Pookie of all people snitching. This shit, right after learning Pookie was junkie, it was too much to process. Jay leaned back against the wall and noticed he was shaking. His entire worldview had been changed in a matter of seconds...apparently none of the so-called ""rules" were unbreakable. If this kind of shit could be happening with Pook, who was supposed to be their leader and look out for them, how could Jay ever trust anyone else in the game from now on? Not to mention this crazy vampire motherfucker out hunting dealers...Jesus, if this was true, what about all those other stories he'd heard growing up, what about the Purple Man? Could he be real too?!

"Yeah, little nigga, I told him. You weren't there, you didn't see how it was. Motherfucker was crazy. I'm supposed to get all my bones broke and become a fuckin gimp to protect those Italian niggas ?! Fuck that and them too."

Jay shook his head "Damn, nigga. That's some shit, what else happened? Why he didn't kill you?"

"I dunno that either. After I told him what he wanted to know, the said "You're out of this buisness beginning now. You leave Gotham City tomorrow. I'll be watching. Next time, I won't hold back." I could sort of see him then from the light coming through the window. It was a white boy wearing a mask and some kind of fucking cape. He walked to the window and went straight out. Must have had some kind of glider or some shit. Looked like a huge fuckin bat. I passed out after that, until you woke me up."

"Shit, a fucking bat?! Q thought he saw a vampire, that's how I knew to come up here and check. What the fuck, man? What are you gonna do?" Jay asked.

" What that nigga told me to do, Im getting the fuck out of the G.C. today. A.S.A. Motherfuckin P., nigga. Word gets back to that guinea bastard Falcone that I opened my mouth, he'll have my whole family killed. Get me my phone and Ill call up my boys, niggas I know I can trust. That's all you gotta do for me, Jay. I won't tell anybody you were up here, nobody will ever find out you know shit."

Jay took a second to think about it...should he call Falcone? Or, fuck it, just shoot this snitching nigga Pookie himself. Either way, Pookie would end up dead and Jay's rep in the streets would go up several notches. He pushed the thoughts out of his mind; Jay knew he didn't have it in him, he wasn't a killer, and sooner or later, that would be a problem. He'd be asked to do something that he couldn't refuse, and it went against his every instinct. He was gonna have to make some changes and, like it or not, probably leave home just like Pook was planning. He went back to the nightstand in Pookie's room and grabbed the cellphone, then handed it to Pook. "Need anything else before I get out of here, man?" Jay asked.

"Yeah, man, thanks. Go grab me some water and I'm dying for a fuckin smoke if you got any more."

Jay got a bottled water from the fridge and handed it to Pookie. He then took the cigarette pack out of his pocket and opened it to take one for Pook, then thought better of it. "Here you go, man" Jay said as he handed Pookie the whole pack, "I'm done with this shit. All of it."


End file.
